It IS something to own a Pheasant

Through the uncut grass on the elm's hill 

It is something to own a pheasant, 

Or just to be visited at all. 

Across the garden 

now beneath the bird food 

You peck your lordly selfish portion, 

Chest out, head back, all colours blazing. 

Your Lady Hen still follows meekly to the fare 

- Unknown 

My Pheasant sitting on a rock on my patio 

John, from Midmarsh Jottings's wonderful post on the visitors to his garden, in particular the Pheasant, reminded me to post a picture of my Pheasant, which we rescued from somebody trying to sell him for the pot. This is an introduced species into South Africa, probably from the U.K., where it is also a non-native bird that was first introduced by the Normans in the 11th century as a game bird. Here in South Africa they are sold as pets and kept as ornamentals in Aviaries. 

Even though he would wait at the front door for his daily tit-bits and even venture into the lounge, he never really got very tame and would spend most of his day skulking under the shrubs in my garden with his female, who only ever ventured out once the coast was clear and not a soul in sight. They spent many wonderful years with me and unfortunately the male died of something unidentified and the female took wing shortly after that. 

The Congo peafowl is Africa's only true native pheasant, according to the Arkive website. This bird, discovered in 1936, lives only within the Congo rainforest region. 

A pair of Congo Peafowl at Antwerp Zoo Photograph from Wikipedia  

Henry skulking around the garden 

Henry and his female in the garden 

The very elusive female Pheasant 

Henry softly calling to his female to come and check out his chosen spot 

 Henry running for cover as the gardener approaches

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You ARE free

“Come along then.” said Jonathan. “Climb with me away from the ground, and we’ll begin.” “You don’t understand. My wing. I can’t move my wing.” “Maynard Gull, you have the freedom to be yourself, your true self, here and now, and nothing can stand in your way. It is the Law of the Great Gull, the Law that Is.” “Are you saying I can fly?” “I say you are free.” 

- From Jonathan Livingstone Seagull 

Seagull - W&N watercolour on X-pressit 300gsm 

I've just read "Jonathan Livingstone Seagull" again for the third time, and every time I discover another lesson... 

• You are free. 
• You’re so free, you can choose bondage. 
• You are so free, that no one can do anything to you. 
• You are so free, that you are the only one who is causing anything to happen in your experience. 

The seagulls at Durban Harbour or St. Lucia, way up on the North Coast of KwaZulu Natal (South Africa), is a constant source of pleasure for me. I just love feeding them, watching them swoop down to collect tit-bits and squabbling among one another for the best pieces. Their innovativeness knows no bounds and one must actually watch all your possessions very carefully or they'll have your beach bag's contents strewn all over the beach.

 Their favourite junk food seems to be hot chips with tomato sauce - I sometimes buy ten packets to take to the beach with me - and offering that sets off a frenzy like you've never seen! And they're not shy to stare you RIGHT in the eye, something I find utterly fascinating! And they do have expressions - intention, curiosity, weariness, guile, craftiness. And it shows in their eyes when they're relaxed and contented, full to the brim with hot chips.

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Rhinos on my doorstep

The only way to save a rhinoceros is to save the environment in which it lives, because there's a mutual dependency between it and millions of other species of both animals and plants. 

 - David Attenborough 

Sketch in my Moleskine 200gsm A4 Folio Nature sketch-book 

When taking my grand-children to Lanseria Airport, we pass by a game farm just a couple of kilometers from where I live, and these two Rhino were grazing right by the fence, so I stopped and did a quick sketch. They didn't seem bothered by me at all, I was just on the other side of a rather rickety looking game fence, which I'm sure they could demolish with a step or two, should they so wish! And I was thrilled to see that they still have their horns, so many are being removed to thwart poachers in a conservation effort of these magnificent animals... 

Sometimes we're lucky enough to see the Lions close-by the fence, but I've never left my car to try and sketch them! 

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Replenish your Soul

Watercolour flowers in terracotta pots on a vintage pine table, which I bought many years ago at a second-hand shop - processed in MS PowerPoint. Back-ground texture by Kim Klassen

Imaginary sunshine spills through the window in my potting shed, lighting up some potted plants on my Vintage Pine table. A potting shed is one of the greatest pleasures of life, a place where you can lose yourself, have contact with Mother nature, pushing your hands deep into the soft soil, creating life in a pot. A place where you can talk to the flowers without getting funny looks. The potting shed is the heart of the garden. It's here where the day begins and ends, where plants get their start, where creativity springs forth and seed packets whisper "Spring is just around the corner!" 

Ideally potting sheds are small outbuildings dedicated solely to gardening activities. Yet, you don't really need a separate structure to pot and propagate. All you need is a sheltered bit of functional space where you can comfortably work and wile away the hours. And replenish your soul. 

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Hedgehog Babies

HOW DO HEDGEHOGS FEED THEIR YOUNG? 

From birth, the mother feeds her babies with milk. She has four pairs of nipples, which seems more than adequate, even for a large litter. However, the mother herself may be short of food, especially in a spell of dry or cold weather, and so unable to feed her entire family. Approximately one in five of all baby hedgehogs dies before it is old enough to leave the nest. 

Info from "Everything You Want To Know about Hedgehogs - Dilys Breese"

 

A couple of years ago I was lucky enough that Hedgie and Sethlong had a litter of eight babies, all of which survived! I started handling them from an early age, with the result that they even started coming out of the grass whenever I called, curiously peeking to see if I have any of their favourite snacks, meal worms. And as soon as I put the worms into the bowl, they would run over and hastily crunch them all up, snuffling around the bowl to see if they missed any. When they were a couple of months old, I found a lovely home for them in the huge aviary at the Krugersdorp Game Reserve, where they were well fed and safe from the raging winter fires we experience here every year. 

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